


Salvage

by sojustifiable



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff and Mush, Humor, Light Bondage, Masochism, Smut, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sojustifiable/pseuds/sojustifiable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re probably going to have to tie my hands up… or something. Just for practicality of course!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvage

**Author's Note:**

> For Soma NSFW Week 2016

Late morning sunlight peeks in through the windows and lights the bed up in patches of hazy daylight. Eleven is still too early to be up, in Soul’s opinion, but some amount of jet lag makes it feel like two in the afternoon for him, and conversely, seven in the morning for his meister.

“I missed you.” Maka crawls on top of him with clear intentions. She’s already stark naked and clearly has a single-track plan to drive him crazy and take him from undersexed to oversexed in as short a time as possible. It’s working too.

“Hey. Wait. We need a game plan.”

“Game plan?” Her voice is throaty in his ear as she sucks on his neck  _ vigorously.  _

“I haven’t seen you in a month, we have a lot of time to make up for,” Soul tries to explain. “What do you want to do today?”

“What do you _ think  _ I want to do today?” A grin into his skin is swiftly followed by a sharp nibble that drives his arousal to new heights, literally.

He gulps. Honesty is the best policy. “I mean, I  _ want _ to give you head for like…  a while, but then you’d probably pull all my hair out so that’s why I’m calling for a plan, because we also need to eat and sleep at some point today.”

“Whatever, sleep is for the weak. I’m on Hawaii time -- the whole day is ahead of me.”

“You are clearly sleep deprived,” Soul snorts. In reality, sleep deprivation is no barrier to either one of them when there’s gratuitous physical contact to be had. He was perfectly content with napping and cuddling from the time his flight had arrived until now, but his partner is clearly restless.  

Maka nibbles his earlobe. “You don’t like it when I pull your hair?”

Truth be told, he likes it  _ very much _ . But she doesn’t need to know that. “What I like is  _ having _ my hair.”

“What do you think we should do about it, then?” Soul gulps again as her lips pass over his pulse -- she clearly wants something, and wants him to suggest it, but he can’t for the life of him imagine what she’s getting at. 

“Dunno,” he grumbles. Rolling Maka onto her back happens so naturally he’s not sure who initiated the action, but even on top he’s still the one pinned. 

Heat feathers along his neck following her burning mouth. “You’re probably going to have to tie my hands up… or something.” 

“What?”  _ Is she into that? Is he into it?  _ Absolutely. Though when he’s entertained fantasies of anything ranging outside of the realm of vanilla and wholesome,  _ she’s always been on top.  _

“Just for practicality of course!” Red tints her skin, crawling from her cheeks, down her neck to the top of her breasts. Maka puffs her cheeks out and turns her head to the side, refusing to look him in the eye.  _ She wants this. _

“Oh, yeah, practicality. Of course.” He can humor her pretending like she doesn’t want to let loose a little. Besides, it’s exciting and okay so he is into it also and it could always open the door to other potential escapades that involve her straddling him mercilessly. 

“I mean it, Soul. Unless you  _ want _ me to pull your hair while you’re eating me out?”

He does, oh he does. He wants her grasping and twisting and scratching his scalp.  _ This is bad. _

“No. Of course not,” he denies. Who knows when this opportunity will arise again?

“So then… my tie is on the floor.”

And so it is, hastily discarded from when she’d gotten home, staring at him, willing for him to do dirty things with it. “Okay.” 

Some rearranging has to happen before light bondage adventure is a go, namely dragging Maka back down the bed so she’s lying down properly. A few pillows go behind her head because he has enough experience to know if she can hit her head on something, she will. 

Swinging like a pendulum between confidence and shyness, she suddenly crosses her arms over her chest as Soul hovers over her, making sure everything is just right. 

He peels them away, holding her wrists securely in one hand, though her arms are still tense. “Maka,” he rumbles. “I’m going to need these.” 

“I know, I know,” Maka growls, twisting back and forth under his gaze. “You’re just looking at me and I can see you looking at me and--”

“Would you feel better if you couldn’t see?”  _ Please say yes.  _ It’s almost chivalrous, but really not at all -- there’s no way he’s going to voluntarily give up  _ his  _ view. “I could blindfold you… if you want…” 

Maka wiggles and the motion is somehow more seductive than Soul thinks it’s intended to be. “You got another tie?”

Of course he does. He releases her arm and reluctantly climbs off the bed to rifle through his drawers until he finds the one black tie among an array of novelty travesties Maka has gotten him for Christmas over the last ten years. “C’mere.” 

“You c’mere -- I’m the one who’s still on the bed.” Her smirk is full fledged now; she reels him in with no effort at all, sitting all smug with her tits barely covered by tightly crossed but slender arms. 

Soul shuffles back to the bed, incapable of much when Maka has that look on her face; she’s eyeing the tie in his hands with a mix of curiosity and concern, chewing on her lip all the while. 

“You sure about this?” he mumbles. “Just because it came to mind doesn’t mean--”

“I said it was just for practicality, okay? Now tie me up already.”       

Eyes flicker downward to her trembling legs. “Whatever you say.”

He leans towards her to cup her cheeks, straightening her hair out before carefully wrapping the first tie around her head. The first time he tries to knot it around the back, a few ashy strands get stuck and she flinches; Soul immediately drops it and tries again, this time careful to leave her precious locks out of this mess. Makeshift blindfold nice and snug, Maka reaches up to feel around the edges, testing the elasticity; she lifts up the bottom edge to peer at him from beneath. 

“Hey now.” Soul captures both her wrists for the second time that night. “No peeking.” 

Somehow she’d managed to get herself upright through sheer squirming, so Soul has to hook the backs of her knees and drag her down to get to her situated again. 

“Arms up,” he suggests, rather than commands. Slowly, hesitantly, Maka reaches up and wraps her fingers around the metal rungs of the bed frame. As he twists the second tie around the metal and her taut limbs, he wonders for a second if this is going to send their sex life off the deep end and suddenly blurts, “Do you think we need a safe word?”  

“Pretty sure ‘no’ and ‘stop’ still apply…”

Her wrists bound, he’s free to find a home holding her by the hips. “Tell me if you don’t like something.” 

A firm nod and they’re on an upward climbing rollercoaster getting ready to plummet. And like any good rollercoaster, he starts out painfully slow. 

It’s not often he has free reign to worship his meister properly, and Soul takes the opportunity to take some time cataloguing all of her new sun-kissed freckles. There are so many! And there are such interesting tan lines to explore, stark white triangles on her tits. He has to mark the borders with his tongue. 

Maka is antsy and demanding within minutes and Soul couldn’t be more giddy. 

“Soul, just-- Hah--” she cuts herself off with a moan as he lazily nudges a nipple around his mouth. “Just touch me already.”

A wet pop. “I am touching you.”

“You said before… with your mouth,” she adds weakly. 

He smiles into her skin. “I’ll get there eventually.”

Not before he brushes across her hip bones and along her sides though. He lies down next to her, nestling one knee between her legs for good measure -- there are other things requiring attention from his lips. He already knows she’s going to jump when he licks her neck, so he takes preventative action, holding her torso solidly before tracing his tongue down the side of her throat. His name comes out high and desperate when he nips at her collar bones.

“What do you need, Maka?” he rasps in her ear. 

She grinds against him, searching for some satisfaction. “Hurry, please.” 

No chance. Not this time. There’s no way she can rush him ahead; this could be the chance in a lifetime to take as long as he wants. “I don’t think so.”

“I thought you were going to listen to me!” 

He pauses in sampling her neck, unsure where she was getting the idea that he has to follow her every instruction, as if he’s the one on his back with his hands above his head. “You can’t just order me into giving you head.”  _ Even if I would totally do that _ , he amends in his head. Having her boss him around is actually really hot, but now is not the time.“I’m pretty sure the point of this isn’t for you to tell me what to do.” 

Her restless wiggling stops; he has her attention now. 

With just a ghost of a touch, he glides from hips to sternum.  _ Death, his lips are dry _ , but he’s on a mission to make this everything it should be, to set the record straight before diving down the rabbit hole. “I’m pretty sure, you asked me to tie you up because you wanted to  _ be tied up. _ Pretty sure the point is for you to trust me with getting you off. So if you want me to stop, if I’m making you uncomfortable, or hurting you -- if you want me to untie you and call it off, by all means I will listen to you.”

He traces her shoulders, her chin, her cheeks. Maka’s breath scorches his thumbs when he brushes her lips. “So as I see it, there’s two options. I can tell you what  _ I _ want to do, and you can veto.  _ Or  _ you can just,  _ ask  _ for what you want, nicely, and hope I give it to you.” 

Uncharacteristically meek, but still vibrating with energy, she says, “Okay,” with a kiss to his fingertips. “Just warn me if you’re gonna do something you wouldn’t usually?” 

“Of course.” He smoothes the crease in her brow with his lips. Unbelievable. Pulling that out had been a gamble at best, and given his meister’s control freak tendencies, he’d half expected her to tell him to set her loose right then and there. But then, if this is really what she wants, she should know it’s in her best interests. Soul regards his partner quietly for a second, watching her breathing calm before she starts wiggling again, impatient as ever.   

“You want something?” He probably deserves the kick to his hip -- he is being cheeky and she’s exasperated.

“You know what I like.”

He does, but now that she’s lost the ability to  _ show _ him the way, she’s going to tell him. “I do. But what do you  _ want _ ? If you’re not specific, I won’t know.” 

“Hah.” Distracting her with a squeeze to her waist may not be fair but it sure is fun. Maybe he’s getting the hang of this. “Could you… bite me… please?” 

That’s one thing he can certainly oblige. He scrapes his teeth down her chest and closes his mouth around the side of her breast. Gently, tenderly, he pinches her flesh as she pants for more. There’s a limit though, and he pulls away the second Maka whimpers in a way that sounds on the border of uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” he apologizes into the skin, pressing his tongue flat against the angry red patch.

Maka’s only answer is a vehement shake of her head and a plea for him to do it again. Heat simmers in his stomach, the desire to crush his body to hers mounting, but he complies. Nipping and sucking his way down her side, he busies himself with grasping and groping the smooth skin from the swoop of her waist to the swell of her rear. She pants his name in untimely sighs until he reaches the apex of her thighs and she freezes. It’s so quiet, he can hear each rattling breath as she waits, tensed up and ready.

“Maka?” he calls to her. His fingers twitch on her stomach, and with his cheek leaned against the inside of his thigh, her heated skin reflects his own heavy breathes back in humid puffs. 

Voice breathy and distracted, she responds, “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna make you come, okay?”

His meister hums in response and he give her leg a quick peck before hoisting her hips up and hauling her legs over his shoulders. 

From the first time he did it, he knew he was going to enjoy eating out his meister. It always makes her  _ react _ so much, and when he’s holding her half off the bed like this, her weight resting on her upper back and his shoulders, he has a view of her parted mouth and blushing neck with a little more context than when their faces are closer. A worthy tradeoff from having to part from kissing her. Though, this kinda counts as kissing, right?

She reels him closer with her heels, and he lets her. It’s where he wants to be after all. Eyes scanning her, he licks, teasing her gently and watching the feedback. Legs clenched, abdominals twitching, she moans, and it’s perfect. He’ll do whatever he can to hear that sound again, repeatedly, especially in shades of expletives and  _ ‘Soul _ . _ ’ _

Under normal circumstances, she’d probably be dragging and shoving his head around, maybe grinding up into his face more, but she has neither the mobility nor the leverage to do so, putting her at the mercy of his teasing tongue. He likes to take it slow, nibbling and playing her soaking folds just for the sake of hearing her pant. 

“Soul,” she breathes. “More? ...Please?” she belatedly adds. 

Man, he hadn’t expected her to switch over from impatient aggression to begging so quickly but damn him if it isn’t sexy. If she’s going to ask so nicely, he should give her what she wants, right? “More how?” 

Her head flops to the side. He knows she’s embarrassed to ask, but he is genuinely curious beyond his constant and insatiable desire to hear his meister say dirty things. When she doesn’t answer immediately, he turns to bite her thigh,  _ lightly _ , just to get her attention. “Tell me  _ exactly _ what you want.”

“Um… Hah.” It’s probably foul play distract her with faint kisses around her clit, but it doesn’t stop him. “Can you… use your fingers too? And um… you could be a little…”

“A little what? Maka?” Her legs are pretty secure over his shoulders; surely he can spare one hand from supporting her by the ass. He trails fingers across her skin and lets them rest against the heat of her center, waiting for her to finish before  _ helping her finish.  _

“Rougher,” Maka blurts, flinging her head to the other side of the pillow. 

That can definitely happen. She’s already so aroused, it’s easy to slide two fingers in and crook them upwards, and the reflexive twitching -- it’s hard not to give in and jack himself off while eating her out. He can wait for later, after he’s turned her into putty with his mouth and his hands, a power he takes great pride in. Squeezing her with the palm still at her hip, he leans back in and goes for gold. 

Wasting no time, he swirls around her clit while meticulously stroking from the inside and she nearly sobs at his efforts. He’s known all along how to give her an orgasm in a flash; he’d just been holding back until now. 

She keens his name, and, against all odds, somehow manages to push her hips up even higher, pressing herself harder against him.  _ “Right there,” _ she gasps.

Oh, he knows  _ ‘right there.’  _ Right where he’s focusing his attention. And between lapping against that sensitive nub, and curling his fingers deep in her sex, her impending orgasm is quick. 

He’d tell her to come for him if it didn’t involve removing his mouth from her flesh, but Maka doesn’t need his command nor his permission to unravel; she does it all on her own accord. Her stomach twisting and her mouth wide open, she comes. 

In the aftermath, he releases her hips and lets her legs melt off his shoulders, letting her ground herself into to the sheets once more. She certainly makes a sight, with shaking knees and heaving chest, sweaty and gorgeous and incredible.   __

Once she finds her breath, she calls for him softly, “Soul?” 

“Right here,” he murmurs, rubbing steady circles into her calves from where he kneels between her feet. 

“Will you come up here?” she asks, pulling one foot up and sliding it over to close her legs and make space next to her, rather than on top of her. 

When it comes down to it, he can only obey. Careful to brace himself without accidentally pulling her hair, he crawls up the bed to lie by her, relishing the line of contact between them. Her breath hitches at the hard press of his cock at her side, but she doesn’t comment, letting him speak instead, “How’re you doing? Still good?”

She nods, enthusiastic and shaky all at once. “Really good. I just missed your face.”  

“You want the blindfold off?” He maps the edges of the tie around her head, testing the feel of fabric on skin, double checking that it hasn’t been digging in.

“I’m okay.” She sighs contentedly, leaning into his touch. 

Soul lifts the edge up for just a second anyway, catching the sated look in her eyes. “‘M just peeking,” he justifies before smoothing down the edge. It’s nice lying next to her again, though he misses her hands rubbing his shoulders. Later, though. They’re not done -- just in a respite. He knows enough to leave a few minutes between rounds of sexual activity, and it’s a good opportunity to cuddle. 

“You look really hot like this,” he comments suddenly, feeling bold with her unable to see him. He nuzzles her neck, wraps an arm around her waist, gets more possessive in his touch by the second. 

She just chews on her lip in response. Accepting compliments on her appearance over her merit isn’t one of her strong suits, and giving those compliments isn’t one of his, but sometimes he needs her to know how he sees her. Sliding up her waist and between her breasts, he reaches her face again and cups her cheek gently, thumbing the smooth skin; she’s always had such nice skin damnit -- even using cheap soap. 

“Hey um,” she starts, pressing her face to his palm.

“Yeah?” he answers in a whisper. It might be just about time to work her up again, start in on giving her another orgasm.  

“I want… a kiss.” 

Defeated. Maka Albarn is going to be the end of him. “I’ll give you a hundred,” he mutters, somehow annoyed that she can be this cute. There’s a lot of ground to cover, blushing cheeks and scrunched nose; he plants one on each eyebrow and along every inch of her jaw before slanting his lips against hers and letting their tongues slide together languidly. With every kiss, his fingers trail down, brushing her pulse on her neck, and lining out the edge of her collar bones. He pauses for a second at her tits to give one a fond squeeze but ultimately continues the journey down her side.

She breaks away with a gasp when he feathers across her stomach, squawking, “That tickles!” as she twists under the lightness of his touch. 

That won’t do at all. Contact firm, he descends further to slide between her legs again, resting his middle finger naturally in the middle of her folds. “Does this tickle?” he asks, grazing carefully along her slit. 

Maka shakes her head. “No.”

“Good.” She’s still wet from before, and he only has to stoke the flames a little to get her rubbing herself slowly but deliberately on his hand, tiny shifts of her hips, pushing up and in circles. The motion is so transfixing that he almost forgets what he should be doing. His stillness makes her more desperate, rolling her hips more and more until he starts to pump his fingers and she stops. 

“Hey, don’t stop,” he says, thumbing her clit. “Move for me.” 

Oh how she moves. Starting with steady circles of her hips, Soul rewards each slow undulation she makes with a heavy stroke to her walls. She starts to buck more out of tempo as she works herself up to climax. Frantic, too, to grind against the heel of his palm. 

It’s incredible. The way she moves is incredible, and he’ll never get tired of watching her. He leans his forehead against her neck, looking down to watch the show, the rise and fall of his meister’s lean body and the shift of her skin over sharp hipbones. She’s getting close again, so close; he can tell from the cadence of her labored breath, so attuned is he to her body after years of experience. 

So close, yet so far. He’s tiring -- maybe he needs to start practicing piano more -- but he’s desperate for her to finish. Too desperate, apparently. He should know he can’t have nice things, and his hand cramps suddenly and horribly, freezing the feverish work of his fingers. 

“Soul!” Maka howls. “Don’t stop,  _ please _ don’t stop.” 

He feels like shit. She thinks he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s part of the game, to deny her and make her work for it, but all he wants is to feel her unravel around him again. “Sorry,  _ fuck _ ,” he hisses. “My hand cramped up.”    

“Oh.” She gives up her valiant attempt to fuck herself and melts into the bed, acutely aware of the situation and the fact that she’d been pleading for him for no reason. 

Apologetic, he whines into her neck. This is no good, no good at all. Hadn’t he said she should trust him with getting her off? He needs to finish the job… he could go back to giving her head -- that would work. Or…

“Maka?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your vibrator?”

Maka’s whole body immediately tenses and she squeaks, “Excuse me?”

“I know you have one -- I’ve heard it.” If that’s been an electric toothbrush, he’s going to feel really stupid. But then, there would be no reason for her to be brushing her teeth in her room at two in the morning  _ only _ on nights that they’ve either had a bit of a spat, or he’d been tired when she hadn’t been. 

“Maybe,” she admits a little guiltily. Caught! He was right! Now the question is if she’ll agree to tell him where it is, and for him to use it to help her finish. If she wasn’t blindfolded, he might be able to tell what she was thinking better, but as it is, the only information he has to go off of is the blush creeping down her neck. 

He waits. It becomes clear pretty quickly that this is the only way things can continue, unless they skip straight to sex, but that would feel like a bit of a cop-out. 

Maka gulps. “It’s uh… In the bottom drawer of my desk.”

“You masturbate at your desk?!” 

He blurts it without even thinking. He jacks off at his desk, but that’s because it’s conveniently located near a box of tissues, not to mention the trash can. But whenever he’s (frequently) imagined Maka touching herself, the image that came to mind was always her sprawled on her bed gasping his name. His dick twitches.

“Nevermind.” He reluctantly hauls himself off the bed to dig through her desk when she doesn’t answer. He idly wonders if she watches porn. 

Clearly the porn  _ he’s _ been watching hasn’t taught him much about vibrators, or what they look like. He’s picturing some big  _ thing _ in the shape of a photo-realistic dong, just made in shiny pink plastic. Not this sleek piece. If he’d come across it unintentionally, he might not have even known what it is, but there’s a tell tale button that buzzes it to life. It’s matte, dark purple, and doesn’t look a thing like a penis. 

“Did you find it?” Maka whispers nervously when he returns quietly to the bed to stand over her.

He presses the button and it buzzes to life at a low hum. “Yeah,” he belatedly answers before nipping her neck and pressing the curved piece against her pussy. “But I need to know how you use it.” 

If he’s being honest, he can kinda guess, but then some specifics would be nice. Does it go inside? Should he move too, or let it do all the work? Does it have  _ settings? _

“You can use it just like that -- hah,” Maka answers with a pant when he leans it a little more firmly against her clit. “And maybe turn it up a little? Push the button again.”

Soul follows her directions, delighted by the high pitched hum she makes in response to the faster pace. What a magical invention. Slowly but surely, her hips come back to the life in the same precise dance they’d been doing on his hand just a few minutes ago. He experimentally joins her, both making small, gentle circles with the vibe and letting himself press his own arousal more firmly against her hip. Maybe he should be ashamed for essentially humping her side, but Maka certainly isn’t complaining about it. In fact, she leans into each contact, even going as far as to twist to the side so it’s her ass pressed against his dick while she gyrates. 

Her arms twist too, and she grabs at the tie that binds them to the headboard. They might be digging into her wrists a little from this position -- her rolled to the side so they’re basically spooning, very sexual spooning -- but this time Maka won’t stop for anything, and she bucks herself between the vibe and his cock until she fulfills a solid percentage of his teenage wet dreams, gasping his name while she comes undone. 

They’re both panting now, and Maka squirms in his arms. At first, Soul thinks maybe she’s trying trying to keep going, rubbing him off with her ass, which would be pretty damn cool. But then she gasps in desperation, stuttering, “S-Soul, the vibrator.” 

Oh, shit. It was still on and wedged firmly between her legs and buzzing merrily away. He turns it off and pulls away. “Better?”

A sigh of relief and her body relaxes, boneless, into his chest, though her breath still comes in heaves. “I thought you were about to just plough on through for round three.”

“I mean, I could,” Soul snorts, rolling her over to her back and checking her wrists to see if all that twisting around had tightened the tie too much. Having him do this, trusting him to please her is also trusting him not to hurt her; he has a responsibility to keep her comfortable. He untangles the loose end to give her skin a little breathing room before settling back down at her side, satisfied she’s not hurting herself.“Do you  _ want _ to go again?”  

Her tongue darts out for a second to wet her lips, the movement magnetizing. “J-just one more.” A pause and a heavy gulp. “I’m starting to wear out.” 

That’s certainly valuable, and elating, information; so often her stamina is so much greater than his, but having her hands tied up has had the unseen advantage of being able to get Maka off without losing it in one go. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“One more?” He curls close to her, presses soothing kisses to her cheeks and greedily mapping out the rise and fall of her chest. “How?” 

As expected, she’s not exactly forthcoming with a request -- it had been a miracle that he’d gotten as much out of her as he had when her normal mode of operation is to just nudge him (physically) in the right direction. Her teeth worry her bottom lip until he thumbs over her mouth. 

It’s a lot easier to be bold when she can’t see how red his face is when he leans in to whisper, “Do you want me to use my mouth again?” 

Ribcage rattling with the pounding of his heart, Soul replays. No voice crack, no problem. Dirty talk is so much easier without his meister seeing how embarrassed he is about it, and by the way a flush spreads down her chest, he must’ve done something right.

“Um.” She writhes against her bonds and under his touch -- something magical is about to happen. “I want you to…”

“What is it, Maka?” _Shit._ _Shiiiit!_ He knows. Oh he _knows._ But if she’s going to say it, he’s going to listen carefully and remember this moment forever. 

Apparently it’s easier for her to be bold in this situation as well, and without even a single embarrassed growl, she confidently says, “I want you to fuck me.” 

Well now he’s _ really _ glad he didn’t blow his load just rubbing off on her like a horny virgin. He’s giddy, maybe even more so than their first time, when he’d been more nervous than anything else. After time apart, he’s missed her, painfully so -- missed how her voice sounds without the distortion of a telephone, and how her hair smells, and the gentle intimacy of sleeping next to each other. But phonesex, while exciting, just hadn’t been the same as being inside her. 

Soul grazes his meister’s hipbones, her ribs, and up her arms. “Do you want me to untie you first?”

“Yeah.” She nods with a nervous laugh. “I wanna see you.”

He should probably school his expression to something a few notches down from deranged euphoria, though there isn’t much he can do about the pink he’s sure must be painting his scalding face. If he can’t manage sexy and brooding, he can at least try for something in the range of  _ mild _ excitement. With a cough, and a few tries at straightening out his face, he peels off the blindfold first. 

“Hey,” he mutters, completely unable to keep that dumb grin off his face. 

Maka smiles back. Apparently it’s contagious, as is the blush that immediately colors her red like a litmus strip for their combined inability to keep cool. “Hey, yourself.” 

When he unties her wrists from the metal bar of the bedframe, Soul expects some immediate grabby-hands. In fact, he’s excited for that more than anything, warm palms running up his arms and back down his chest, man handling him around and tugging his hair a little… 

He doesn’t expect the wrestler-esque body slam in which she wraps lithe legs around his hips and flips him over with torsional force. In hindsight, that was always the more likely action; tying up a wild cat could never end well, and Maka is a fierce one. 

Rolling her hips, she immediately pins his arms down to the bed and bites his neck, shocking a gasp out of him.

“You gonna tie  _ me _ up now?” he asks, a little nervous, but mostly excited at the prospect. As soon as the words are out he realizes what answer he’s hoping for.

“No,” _ (Darn!)  _ “but I am going to make you listen to me,” she says, mischievous grin apparent on his skin before she sinks her teeth in again. 

Soul groans at the sensation of her blunt teeth scraping his pulse and her hot tongue in their wake as she nips him repeatedly along the curve from jawbone to shoulder. 

“Don’t move,” she commands. And of course he listens -- how could he not when she’s hovering over him with her tits in his face and her voice like smoke and liquid sex. He still hasn’t come yet through all of these antics, and his long standing erection makes him wired and needy. How quickly the tables have turned.

Once the only part of him still in motion is his heaving chest, Maka tentatively sits up, releases his wrists, and slides her way to card her hands through his hair.  _ Please please please just pull for the love of God.  _

Her grip tightens at the roots; had he accidentally said something aloud? Green eyes search his face, luminous and hungry. Maka experimentally tows his head around the pillow while he gets increasingly bothered. 

Death, she’s sly. A sneaky smile lifts her lips just a nudge, and though she surely knows the answer, she asks, “Do you really hate it when I pull your hair?”

Soul gulps. He’s so fucked, and not in the good way, at least not yet. He could try not to answer, but after all his teasing he knows he’s due for a little payback and his meister is ruthless. Bucking up between her warm, gloriously warm, thighs doesn’t do much good either. She has him nearly immobilized, and the little range of movement he does have is quickly halted by the glare she shoots him. 

“D’you want me to fuck you or not?” he grumbles. But Maka won’t let him change the subject.                  

“Answer me,” she demands, tightening her fist with one hand while clawing at his shoulder with the other. Her nails aren’t long but the effect is there and it makes him shudder with pleasure. 

_ Shiiiit. _ “I don’t hate it.” It’s not a lie per se, but certainly not the whole truth. He can only hope that she doesn’t recognize the trembling in his limbs as anticipation. 

Legs tight around him, Maka leans back down, caging him in and whispering in his ear, “Tell me exactly how you feel about it.” 

He hiccups. He can’t help himself. He’s enamoured, and with fingers twisted into the sheets he admits defeat. “ _ Fuck _ , Maka, it turns me on so much.”

His reward is a yank and the sensation of her mouth at his ear and along his jaw before she kisses him deeply, grinding against him in torment all the while. 

“What about this?” She pulls away breathlessly to dig her nails into his shoulder, his chest, anything she can reach. 

It’s no use even trying to pretend he’s anything less than masochistic at this point, and he moans openly while she glides herself along his shaft but doesn’t permit him entrance. It’s fine. He could easily finish like this, and he knows she can too, though there’s a latent desire eating a hole in his chest to feel her come undone around him. 

He wants to feel every inch of her, especially the secret ones. 

“Maka.” Her name is a sigh. “I wanna be inside you.” 

Despite his plight, she continues to slide around in his lap without getting either one of them very far along. “Maybe if you ask  _ nicely, _ ” she throws his old words back in his face with a smirk. 

_ “Please,”  _ Soul amends. If he’s not above admitting that he wants her to rough him up a little, he’s certainly not above begging for it. “I wanna touch you--”

“You can touch.” Maka gives her allowance and his reaction is immediate, palms sliding up her thighs and holding on for dear life. 

“...And I wanna feel you when you come.” 

That at least gets her to pause for a moment, though she’s still on him, molten and wet. “Great minds think alike.” She smiles, lifting herself up and reaching to position him properly. “I wanna feel you when I come too.” 

_ “Shit,”  _ he hisses. No matter how hot it had been to have her grinding on top of him, it can’t compare. His nails dig into her thighs and she whimpers, retaliating with a slow scratch down his arms as she adjusts herself, sinking further down. She’s so warm, and soft, and though there are bags under her eyes, she doesn’t look even a bit fatigued, only glowing and  _ radiant _ . 

Maka twists in his lap, stirring herself without really letting him thrust. And while his hands have found a home at her ass, he doesn’t push the issue -- she’s leading now, after all, and she’ll take her own sweet time about it. 

“C’mere.” Maka leans over grab him by the back of the neck and haul him half upright; apparently it’s no time to be lying on his back enjoying the view. His meister has demands and he will meet them by any means necessary. It’s probably worth it. The look on her face when he tenses under her to reposition himself is phenomenal. Easily within her mouth’s reach, she smashes her lips to his and  _ rides. _

Having his hair grasped so tightly does hurt a little, but mostly it just spikes his arousal to unreasonable places and causes his head to fall heavy on her shoulder while he maps out the muscles of her torso while she moves. Crooned encouragements carry him like a song; Soul’s addition to the duet is to groan into her neck and move to thumb her clit. That  _ really _ makes her sing.

Breath heavy, voice rasping, she drags him out of the crook of her shoulder to press their foreheads together. “Come for me,” she says. “Come  _ with  _ me.” 

He can only obey. No longer able to keep still, Soul cants into her with a complete lack of rhythm, trying his best to keep it together until he feels the telltale flex of his meister’s impending orgasm. Maka’s teeth find his bottom lip, catching and claiming it for her own. There’s no hymn sweeter than her moaning into his mouth, and no sensation more incredible than having his partner pulled flush to his chest while she clenches, and spasms, and  _ melts. _ He’s always been a goner. But she won’t let him hide this time, and those green eyes have never burned brighter than now, like she’s peering into his soul while he comes. To be fair, she might be -- and to be honest, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

Completely slack, Soul flops back on the bed, letting Maka tumble with him in a pile of mushy limbs and flushed skin. 

“Damn.” Soul gives a low whistle and squeezes his partner’s shoulders until she peers up at him, chin propped adorably on his chest. “That was something.” 

The grin on her face is as wide as it is contagious.  _ “Mhmmm. _ I’m so tired, though.” 

“That mean it’s time for a nap?” he asks hopefully. 

Her answer is a vehement shake of her head, her hair tickling his chest from her antics. Oh well. It was worth a try. “Not yet anyway -- we need a new game plan.” 

Last time he’d said those words had been an undetermined about of time ago before they’d entered a wormhole of heavy petting and light bondage. Naturally, his ears pink at the phrase, though she smacks his arm lightly when she catches the look on his face.

“First thing: shower.” 

He nods dumbly. 

“Then lunch, and  _ then _ we nap.” 

“Sounds like a good day to me.” Soul can’t help but smirk. In a post-coital lull, he’s completely relaxed and ready to sink into the bed for the rest of the day. 

Maka rolls over and sits up, potentially disgruntled, though he can’t for the life of him figure out why. “That’s not the whole day.”

“What else is there to do?” He sits up. Remembers they’re still naked. Tries to look at her face and not her tits. Fails. 

“Well…” A single finger traces up his torso, sliding along his collarbone and leaving a wash of goosebumps in its wake. “Before… it kinda sounded like you wanted  _ me _ to tie  _ you _ to the bed.” 

Oh god. Oh  _ Damn.  _ Oh fuck yeah. Just with a brief mention, his brain runs wild with possibilities: How would it feel for Maka to deny him, make him beg? Then there’s that vibrator to consider; he’s really curious what creative ways she could think of to use it. “Um, sure. Okay.”    


End file.
